


On the way home

by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Sheriff Stilinski is shot, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25068424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving/pseuds/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving
Summary: The cruiser's nearly empty and Sheriff Stilinski decides that swinging by the gas station before going home will give him a few extra minutes with his son in the morning.Probably the worst decision he's ever made
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: Full Moon Ficlet Prompt #387: React





	On the way home

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sad, and apparently the answer to that is maybe, probably, possibly, killing Sheriff Stilinski. I'm so sorry
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated

Sheriff Stilinski stood from his desk. The clock on the wall loudly proclaimed the time to be well past midnight, meaning he’d been sitting bent over his paperwork for close to four hours; no wonder he’s entire body was sore.

The station was quiet, Tara was manning the front desk on the off chance anybody called for assistance, Parrish out patrolling the streets. He’d be back in an hour or so and he and Tara would switch. Sheriff Stilinski only stopped long enough to wish Tara a quiet night and with a wave he went outside into the cool night air. Taking a deep breath he got in the cruiser ready to go home for a few hours sleep before he’d have to be back.

Turning the key in the ignition, he could see he was almost out of gas. Deciding he’d much prefer spending a few extra minutes with his son in the morning than get those extra minutes of sleep he turned towards the gas station instead of home.

Watching the numbers rise as the tank slowly filled, John mentally went over the contents of the fridge. He was pretty sure they’d been almost out of milk, maybe even bread; a sound signalled the car was filled so he hung up the nozzle, twisted the cap on and made his way inside the small shop.

It was as quiet as the station had been, after all not much happened in Beacon Hills after ten in the evenings, and how they even had a gas station open 24-7 was somewhat of a mystery; though to him it had been a blessing more often than not. He went straight for the back where the refrigerated display was and grabbed a few cartons of milk, then made his way down the aisle to see if something caught his eye.  
He was debating between two packages of bread when he heard the bell signalling he wasn’t the only one awake this late on an ordinary weekday. Tired, and not in the mood to engage in smalltalk with another customer John took his time looking at the shelves, but seeing as he was already pretty familiar with the selection it wasn’t more than a few minutes. He just hoped whoever had entered had had enough time to buy their cigarettes or lottery ticket they’d be gone.

One hand holding his groceries and the other reaching for his wallet, John noticed just half a second too late it wasn’t a customer who’d entered the shop earlier. Looking up to greet the sales clerk John saw a man with a gun pointing at the terrified young man behind the desk. Bread and milk fell to the floor as John, who was still in uniform, reached for his own weapon, the man turning on his heel pulling the trigger as he went.

There was no sound, no pain; just a stranger pointing a gun at him and a sales clerk with his mouth wide open. John thought to himself that maybe the gun had jammed or it had been loaded with blanks, then the world went black.


End file.
